


Pink Roses

by summerhall



Category: General Hospital
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Pseudo-Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:12:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhall/pseuds/summerhall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel of sorts to "Scotch and Mob Princes". After the car bombing, Johnny realizes that there's no room in Kristina's life for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Roses

Johnny wishes he could say that he's shocked and horrified at walking into Kristina's hospital room to find her making out with her brother, but, truthfully, he isn't.

He isn't even noticed by either of them, they're too focused on each other to notice anything else, so Johnny just stands there, bouquet of Kristina's favorite flowers in his hand, looking like a voyeuristic dumbass. He'd come with flowers and the intent on ending the deal they'd made. He kept telling himself it was for her own good- after all, the whole reason she was in the hospital was because her father, enraged to near madness at the idea of his daughter sleeping with his enemy, planted a bomb in his car, one that missed him completely and almost took out Kristina instead. She'd gotten out of the car in time, but the blast had sent her flying against a building, breaking her arm and foot and knocking her unconscious for a whole day. Her injuries were a wake-up call to him- one that said that he needed to put some serious space between them before she ended up dead.

Still, Johnny couldn't help but think that maybe the reason he needed to put some space between him and Kristina was because he was enjoying their game a little _too_ much. Like when he put his arm around her when Bernie walked into Kelly's. Or when he'd held her hand when they passed Max and Milo coming out of Pozzulo's and didn't let go until fifteen minutes later. Or when he'd kissed her on Baker Street because "he thought he saw Sonny".

He hated it, he _truly_ hated it, but Johnny couldn't help but feel like he'd been kicked in the gut when he saw Michael and Kristina break for air and smile at each other like the love-struck teenagers they were.

Slipping unnoticed out of the doorway, Johnny made his way towards the elevators, the pink roses in his hand feeling like a dozen pieces of lead. He entertained the thought of leaving the bouquet with Robin or Patrick and having them play flower deliverer, but they weren't at the nurses' station when he passed it and he didn't really feel like searching the entire hospital for them. What he should do, he thinks as he enters the elevator, is go to the Metro Court, give the flowers to Olivia, and grovel at her tiny feet- but he doesn't have the heart or the energy for that either.

Several hours and a whole bottle of wine later, the flowers end up resting on top of his sister's headstone, and the pink just looks so damn out of place next to the large type of _Claudia Zacchara Corinthos_ \- a name he had always associated with black clothes and red shoes- that he laughs until he's crying. Crying for the loss of the woman that had been his everything for so long, and for the loss of the not-quite woman that could have been her replacement.

They were so alike, Kristina and Claudia. So driven, so angry, so broken. Both so obsessed with exerting their independence and power, both losing a little piece of themselves- _and their sanity_ \- when they get shot down- _usually by Sonny_ \- and fall- _usually into their brother 's_ _waiting arms_. Johnny had spent many years putting Claudia back together piece by piece, and it looked as if Michael and Kristina were going to repeat that.

Brother and sister. That was how the equation worked; only two, no room for any more. Johnny had lost his other half, she was lying in the ground under his feet, and no one could ever replace her, no matter how hard he tried or how much he wanted it. It was the irresistable force of habit, he supposes, that makes him want to swoop in and rescue Kristina, but she wasn't his to rescue. She wasn't his to keep.

There was only room for two, and he was the odd man out for the first time in his life.


End file.
